Bleeding Love
by anastasiavanderbilt
Summary: Anastasia Vanderbilt has been captured by Asgardians and will soon become Loki's possession. LokixOC oneshot OOC Loki


You can't open your eyes. Your head hurts much too much to even attempt to allow the slightest amount of light in. All you know is that there are voices, far away, but you can't even make your brain focus on them. You whimper softly, but barely a sound comes out from your dry, raspy throat. You try to push your body off the cold, stone ground, but really, if you can't open your eyes, what made you think you had a chance of pushing yourself off the ground?

You use the ground as a sort of mediocre ice pack for your heavy head, hoping it'll ease some of the pain. Through the throbbing you wonder: do they even have ice packs here? Where even is here? Before you can let your sore mind wander though, the voices get a bit louder and your eyes tighten shut further.

The voices are stationary for a moment, and in a split second of clarity you realize that they must have stopped at the cage next to yours. Every muscle in your body tenses, and you bear the pain enough to open your eyes. Boots. Three sets of boots. Black leather, all of them. One of them clearly lower class than the other two. Your eyes venture upward; one is dressed in green and gold, another in red and silver, and the one below them in brown. You inwardly groan as you realize from the fashions, you're still not home, although the cages should've been a dead giveaway of that. One of the voices is slightly nervous; you quickly assign that one to the man in brown. Another voice is quiet, calculated, and the last booming, free. You can't see their faces, so you can't really determine whose is whose.

They turn away from the other cage and walk in your direction. You do your best to open your eyes wide, to not show the pain you're feeling. Your heart is pounding but you bite your tongue.

To your surprise, the lesser man leads the other two past your cage. The one in green lingers a little as the other two begin to talk about the next girl. The quiet green clad man speaks up, "What of this girl?"

Your eyes widen, and you so desperately want to scurry into a corner of your small cage. Instead, you manage to lift your head a little. The man in brown takes the few steps back to your cage. "Her, my Lord? Despite her good looks, she's been nothing but trouble. Bit one of our men yesterday, clear through the skin. We had to beat her good for that one."

So that was why you hurt so badly. Your groggy sore brain was beginning to remember some things. You realize that the brown cloaked man was in charge of you and the other prisoners, but god was he an ass. Recalling last night's events made your blood boil; one of the men handling you had tried to grope your breasts, taunting you, his gross breath in your ear. You'd bitten him hard, there was blood, and they'd beaten you unconscious, to where you'd only woken up just a few minutes ago.

You're able to reach for your voice. "You're forgetting the part where I was molested and bit him in defense." Your voice is barely your own, cracking, ragged.

"Is this true?" The quiet man's voice is hard, like crystal.

"Of course not. She's a filthy, lying, Midgardian bitch." His voice was scathing.

"And you're a kidnapping, sadistic, whatever-the-fuck-you-are asshole." You sneer a little. You're not good at holding your tongue, even when it'd be best for your health.

"You little bitch-" The brown cloaked man stepped forward but was interrupted.

"I'd like to see her sitting up, rather than sprawled on the ground." The quiet man said, authoritatively, so it was clear that it was not a request but a demand.

"Brother you can't be seriously considering this girl." The man in red murmurs to his brother.

The prison master makes no moves to help you sit up, so you try yourself. It's hard and you have to gnaw on your cheek to keeping from groaning aloud, but you eventually are sitting up, chest heaving, leaning against the cage wall, looking up at the men through tired eyes.

From this angle you can see their faces and you're surprised that the red and green men are supposedly brothers. The red man is buff to say the least, wide shoulders and prominent chest with dirty blonde hair, blue eyes, and a thick jaw. The green man is much leaner, but you can tell that labeling him as weak would be a mistake. His jaw is sharp, his eyes an even sharper green, his hair black, stark against pale skin. They're both unbelievably gorgeous, but you can't seem to move your gaze from those emerald gems masquerading as irises.

The lean man gives you a twitching, one-sided grin. "It seems the girl obeys who counts."

Although you appreciate the red rising in the prison master's face, you narrow your eyes a little at the man. You really don't like the idea of obeying anybody. You give your best one-sided sneer to mimic his grin, but it just makes his grin grow even wider.

"I quite like her. I'll take her." He begins to walk away as the prison master balks a little. The blonde man claps a hand on the prison master's shoulder and shakes his head, muttering, "Loki."

Loki. Loki. The name echoes in your head as you close your eyes again, exhausted from everything that has just transpired. You don't even know your fate anymore, and as you fall asleep, you're not sure you even care anymore.


End file.
